Sugar and spice, and super soakers filled with Blood
by Doodle Dee Bop Bop
Summary: Sugar and Spice and Everything nice, that's what little girls of made of, unless you as a Winchester who a day ago was a grown man. Sam was working a case alone after getting kicked out of the Impala, and got turned into a little girl. Now he has to deal with a teasing Dean, a creature out for his soul, and plenty of other things.
1. Chapter 1

It had been three weeks since Sam had last seen Dean, well technically speaking it had been 2 weeks and 5 days, but who's counting? Honestly though, Sam couldn't have been happier.

He was currently spending his time in dreary, small towns in New England. He had worked his way up from Vermont, to new Hampshire, and currently he was in Maine. It was a nice time, most of the places he had been were pretty old towns so hey were full of century old ghosts who were pretty easy to stop. He had passed through a town known for witch trials, and he had taken down an entire gag of witches in a day.

He felt on top of the world, he had stopped more evil in the last two weeks than he and Dean had probably done in the last two months.

Maybe he was working so fast and hard to avoid the inevitable thoughts that passed through his mind even though he tried to push them out. Dean had kicked him out.

Maybe it was all Sam's fault, he had started the argument, but he was still shocked when Dean had stopped right at the light at told Sam to get out of the Impala. Sam had grabbed his bag, and just went along with the whole thing.

He got a room for the night, positive that Dean was going to call and tell him to get back in the car because they had a case to work. He didn't expect an apology for Dean being a dick towards him, even though that would have been nice, he just wanted some form of Dean expressing some concern. He had kicked him out in the middle of an intersection, shouldn't there be mild concern there to make sure he didn't die.

After the third day, Sam had realized Dean didn't care. So he got a car in his usual ways, and started driving. If a town looked old or small enough he looked for a case there. If he found one, he solved it within 72 hours. If he didn't, he got a good meal, and hit the road.

His current case was in a sleepy sea town near the North of Maine. He was hunting a rare soul eater. It was the kind of creature he'd barely heard about in passing, and nobody had actually hunted one, only the friend of a friend of a prison buddy/step cousin/neighbor with a peg leg and a glass eye. So really, Sam was pretty sure nobody had actually hunted one of them.

They were nasty buggers, they had a taste for human souls, raw ones straight from the body. Their greatest weakness was human flesh though. That was probably the reason there were so few. Most died out from eating so much flesh in short periods of time, others died from lack of food, and the few he were left learned such dark magic they usually needed up getting killed by demons.

The few who were left practiced light magic; turning people into food, or shrinking them. Some liked to turn their prey into rodents of sorts and watch them squirm. The one he was hunting like to turn its prey into strange animals.

Sam had thought he was ready to take one on. He had stopped by the hospital and 'borrowed' some blood, picked up a couple super soakers from Walmart, and was ready to fight. Apparently if you shoot the thing with enough human parts, it disintegrates into nothingness.

Most of the victims seemed to have gone missing near the lake on the edge of town, it was a popular spot.

The first victim, Chad Monroe, was a high school senior. He had gone there to make out with his girlfriend apparently, who had decided that was then night to announce that she was pregnant. Chad got out of the car, and was never seen again. The girl reported seeing a octopus in the water, that looked like it was being pulled under by something much stronger than it. The cops dismissed her as crazy.

Three more incidents later, people going missing, the ones closet to them at the time reporting seeing an animal that does not belong in northern Maine, and the town is the talk of the state. Sam's job would have been a hell of a lot easier if there weren't so many tourists showing up.

Some locals said somebody was abducting people and was leaving animals as a calling card, others said witches, most just didn't believe.

Sam stuck his water guns full of B negative into the plastic Walmart bags, parked his car, and started walking into the woods.

He heard a slurping sound first. Either somebody was getting it on in the middle of the forest at night, or the creature had started to feed on its next victim.

He took out both of the flimsy water guns and sprayed the thing. It was ugly, green peeling skin, scarce amounts of hair all over it's body in clumps, it's mouth forming welts from the entrails it was devouring. The victim had remained human, she hadn't changed into an octopus,or a zebra. Her mouth was forever froze in a scream. Her eyes were open and glazed. Her stomach down was missing.

The thing hissed at the blood being shot shot at, but Sam ran out before it was dead. It was weak, Sam could probably outrun it, but it still had magic.

"you...wi..will...pay!" It said raising dirty, peeling fingers.

If Dean was there he would make remark about how they'd heard it all before.

Sam took off running, dropping the water guns. He felt a sharp pain in his back. The little bitch hit him.

He groaned out in pain, but kept moving. He drove faster than he should have, all he could focus on was the pain. He had to get bad to the motel. His driving sucked, his vision was blurred and his fingers were clenched so tight he could brad tidally see through his skin. He almost got into a car accident twice, and three people gave him the finger as the passed him. As soon as he got into the motel, he passed out from the pure amount of pain.

12 hours later he awoke surprisingly pain free, except for the migraine he got from spending all night on the floor. Things were off though, he was shorter. He stumbled his way to the bathroom, his feet didn't seem to work right. He flicked on the switch. And stood gawking in front of the mirror.

His reflection was that of a little girl.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN- Firstly I want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited. It means the world to me to see people interested in my stories. So i will be planning on updating this story every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday/Sunday I haven't decided on that last one yet. This week I do have finals though, so I'm just going to do a double weekend update. So here it goes, and if you want to see anything happen in this story just review or PM me, I'm really open to suggestions.**

Sam had three hours at most. When he had got the room, he had payed for three days, and it was nearing noon on that final third day. He couldn't leave the motel. He couldn't drive, he didn't have any cash on him for bus fare, and he was pretty sure nobody in their right mind would accept a credit card from a seven year old.

Seven. Tha's how old he figured he had probably been turned. That first night he had tried to figure everything out, he had measured himself and had found out he stood at a measly 3'11''.

That wasn't the worst part, the worst was that he was so damn cute. The monster who had cursed him had done a very convincing job, his face featured wide eyes, pink lips, and just the slightest rosy cheeks. His hair fell in long dark waves down his back. He looked casually like he had when he had been that age, but in an exaggeratedly feminine way.

Once he had figured out that he wanted to avoid mirrors for the rest of the time he was under the spell, and figured out stilts would probably prove to be helpful, he turned towards the matter of clothing.

His pants were far to big, but he had a few pairs of boxers that were a few years old fit okay as shorts after he had rolled them a few times.

He had an old sweatshirt from Stanford, he hadn't worn it in forever. It had always felt awkward in it around Dean, and a few years ago it has shrunk at a laundromat, but he could never seem to part with it.

Jess had gotten it for him as an anniversary present, they had only been together three months and it had been one of the greatest gifts he had ever received. She had paid the extra money to get his first name embroidered into the sleeve. He liked how it felt on him, but he had worn it for three days straight so it sort of stunk.

Three days. That was his problem, he had only hours to figure out a way to get out of the motel and find somewhere to go.

Some helicopter parent would call the cops if they saw him walking around the town by himself, and it wasn't like he could carry all of his weapons in one trip to the car. Somebody would question him. He had only one option, call Dean.

He had been avoiding that possibility. Not only was Dean angry at him, but the teasing was what scared Sam more.

When Sam was 16 he accidentally spilled orange juice on Dean's leather jacket. Dean purposefully left him behind at the motel, handcuffed to the table and didn't come back for him for 10 hours.

Sam was more scared for his life to tell his older brother he had turned into a child than he had been as a 16 year old boy chained to a table in a sketchy motel that three people had been shot in.

2 hours and 48 minutes until check out. He was doomed. He grabbed his cell phone, his hand hovered over Deans contact.

It was his only option, he had to do it. It was embarrassing, but he had to.

He pressed down, the phone began to ring.

He didn't know whether he should be hoping Dean would pick up or not.

After the third ring he heard Dean's gruff voice. "Sammy. Finally decided to call. Ready to tell me I was right?"

"I'm not calling for that Dean." He said, trying to lower his voice as much as possible.

"Dude, what's wrong with your voice, you sound like a muppet."

"I'm kind of in a predicament here. Dean where are you, because I need you to pick me up."

"What, can't drive yourself? I'm in Maine though, right near my little brother I knew you couldn't even last a month without me."

Little. He was a whole lot littler than Dean thought. "Dean I'm at the Wesson Motel, please tell me your near there."

"Well according to Google Maps I am 15 minutes away."

"I'm in room 110. I need your help. Now."

"Okay, I'm coming. You want to tell me what's wrong."

Oh yes, I turned into a little girl and now I need you to come get me because I'm a kid who's to short to drive, and I have three shotguns in here which I'm to little to shoot.

"No."

"Whatever ma, I'm like twelve minutes away so I'll see you then." The older of the two hung up the phone.

Those twelve minutes passed fast. The trickled form twelve to eight, down to five, to four, to three, two, one.

After that last minute Sam thought maybe he wasn't coming, until he heard a knock on the door followed by a hissed, "Sam."

He opened the door, "Hi Dean." His tiny voice squeaked out.

Deans lips spread into a smirk, Sam could already see all the teasing jokes forming in Dean's mind.

"Well aren't you just the cutest 'wittle' thing Sammy."


	3. Chapter 3

**Why does the Internet connection in my room suck? I don't know, but it's really irritating. Sorry it's been a while since the last update, I had finals and then went on a spur of the moment vacation to New York! I have made it my goal to writer this summer, so I'm going to update this following the schedule from last chapter, and on Sunday's. Okay, onto the story, and hey, if you wanna review it would mean the world to me.**

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The two stood staring at each other; two and a half feet of height difference made it rather awkward of course, but they managed to have some form of eye conversation going on.

Dean quickly hurried into the room, shutting the door behind him so hard it shook the side table to the left of it. "What the hell."

Maybe this wasn't Sam's best option, getting arrested for being a child with a large amount of guns didn't seem like to bad of a plan. "I got cursed or somethin', I dunno." he mumbled out. In a few sentences he explained how exactly the hunt had gone down.

Dean's mouth spread into something more devious than a plain smirk, but about as joy filled as a little kid on Christmas. It held a certain likeness to the Grinch's when his heart grew three sizes. within that minute he was wheezing on the floor out of laughter. "Oh god... Sammy... You're like seven." He could barely contain his laughter at this point, he threw his head back and held his side with one hand. "You're a... a girl too... You screwed up big time this time didn't you?"

"If by 'screw up big time' you mean pissing off a century old creature by squirting it with blood, then yea." Sam retorted.

Dean looked as if he was about to say something, but couldn't even do it before beginning his next round of laughter.

"I get that you think this is hilarious Dean, but it's not for me. Can you just help me fix this?" Sam tried his hardest to recreate his famous bitch face, but he looked more like some kind of kicked puppy that was about to pee on your shoe.

"Sure thing, Princess." Dean teased, unprepared for the kick to the shin Sam's small foot delivered. "Dammit Sam."

"Serves you right." Sam mumbled.

The two stood silent for a moment, before Dean cleared his throat. "Listen, before we do anything else, can we just like cut your hair or something, because I can't take you seriously looking like that."

"You don't think I've tried? It's like magic or something, every time I hack a piece of it off it just grows back." Sam explained, grasping a chunk of his now rather long hair.

"Damn, that thing got you pretty good." Dean sighed, awkwardly patting Sam on the head.

"Don't do that."

"Don't tell me what to do, shorty." Dean retorted, glad that he was once again taller. In his early twenties he had always imagined having some kind of weird growth spurt that would get him just that bit taller, but it of course never came. It had been a dream he had forever given up.

"Whatever. I see why kids don't like you; you're terrifying from this angle." Sam chuckled, earning a smack on the head from Dean.

"Children love me, so shut your pie hole. I'm already sick of having to deal with you like this, so how about we get you some normal clothes, and head on over to the woods to find you a cure."

"Fine by me." Sam said, also sick of the current situation. "Are we stopping at Goodwill?"

"No, I was thinking something classier. I saw a Target on the way here. I here they have pretty little dresses for a little girl scout like you." Dean smirked, payback filled his eyes with a twinkle.

"Dean. No." Sam cried out. He whined about Dean's plan as Dean loaded everything into his car, as he checked out, and finally as they got into the car.

"You're not going to change my mind, Rugrat. I believe this will teach you to go pissing off monsters."

"Please if it had seen your face it would have been pissed from the start." Sam teased.

"You calling me ugly?"

"I'm just saying a hairy, peeling, monster wouldn't find you very attractive."

"Well in that case, I think we're going to be buying little miss Sammy some hair bows too."

"Dean." A panicked look filled Sam's face. "Dean, you're not serious, right?"

"Maybe I am, and maybe I'm not." Dean vaguely replied, pulling into the department store parking lot.

Sam felt his heart beating a hundred times faster, his own brother wouldn't do that to him? He was just being an asshole. Sure he was really mad, and found this whole situation a joke, but still.

Dean found the girls department easily, and held up various frilly dresses in front of Sam.

He ended up with a plaid shirt that was unfortunately yellow and pink with sparkly buttons, and a pair of jeans. He found a pair of hiking type boots that, besides the pink heart pattern on the sole, were completely okay. The last item Sam had to get was underwear, and Dean thought it was so funny to get him the Disney's Frozen kind.

Sam noticed some other things going into there basket that he couldn't see, but it was most likely pie. They were about to check out, when Dean spotted a large sign right in the dreaded car seat section.

"Sam how tall are you?"

"3'11''." He quietly replied.

"Well Sammy, it's your lucky day. You need a booster seat."

"Dean, no, please. I'm only going to be stuck like this for a little longer."

"Sorry kiddo, laws are laws."

"Dude, we pretend we're FBI agents. We commit credit card fraud. You do not live by the motto laws are laws." Sam said, clenching his fists.

"Well who would I to be to spare you of any kind of childhood experience."

Sam muttered something that any seven year old should not say.

They checked out, and Sam changed into his new outfit in the bathroom. It wasn't horrible. It wasn't a dress, which was relieving. It was just stupid that he had to wear girl stuff.

the only thing worse was having to sit in that booster seat. Dean had been wonderful as always and purchased the last pink floral one.

Sam remembered how much he had hated the back seat. Dean could play his awful music as loud as he wanted to and there was literally nothing he could do to stop him.

It was going to be a long day.


End file.
